


Loser Makes Dinner

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, nerf guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9391148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

You had been off all day. For the longest time, you had wanted to do this and since you’d had all day to do nothing, you went to the toy store and grabbed two Nerf N’Strike Elite HyperFire Blasters, each containing 25 foam darts. They were motorized, so when you returned home with the smile of a four-year-old on Christmas morning on your face, you loaded the toys with batteries and wrote a note, which you’d leave taped to the door for Spencer. It read:

Hey babe,

I have had way too much free time today. At your feet, you will find a nerf gun. You shoot me first, I make dinner. I shoot you first, you make dinner. Hope you had a good day at work.

Your Loving (and Overgrown Child) Wife, 

Y/N

With glee, you taped the note to the dinner, only putting the gun out around the time you knew he would be home lest some kid come by and take it. When you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, you grabbed your blaster and started it up, ready for when Spence walked in the door. First, you heard a laugh as he picked up the gun. Then, you heard a promise. “I am totally winning this, Y/N.”

“No you’re not!” you screamed, hiding behind the bed in your room. The door unlocked and you only heard light footsteps. He was being careful of his movements, but you could still hear him, tall, gangly man that he was, and as he approached the bedroom, you thought this was too easy. When he passed, you jumped out, shooting the blaster in his direction, but the agile bastard dodged your bullets, running toward the bathroom and locking himself in. “You’ve fucked yourself,” you laughed. “How do expect to get out of there?”

“I’m formulating a plan,” he responded seriously. “Rules are the darts have to hit skin or clothes right?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied, your blaster resting comfortably on your right shoulder with the help of your hand. “Hurry up, you can’t stay in there forever.”

As he inched open the door, you unloaded your darts in his direction, only realizing when you’d run out that he had shielded himself with an extra large towel from underneath the sink. You had no more darts. You were vulnerable. “Fuck!” you screamed as you dodged his incoming assault by jumping behind the couch. You mirrored each other, moving around the couch with the nimbleness of a ballerina on the stage. Soon, he was out of darts too.

Quickly, you ran down the hallway and grabbed as many darts as you could off the floor, loading them up as you ran, knowing he would be doing the same. Neither of you could’ve managed to grab more than five darts, so you had to make it work. Once again, you found yourself in the bedroom, and much like he did at work (or at least you imagined he did) you snuck around the corner, peeking your head out slightly for any sign of Spencer. Bursting forth from the bedroom, you lifted the blasters at the same time, letting go all of your remaining rounds and ducking for cover. 

Like a bad slow motion movie, you both lept out of the way, but got hit anyway. “You got hit first!” you screamed, laughing from your place on the bedroom floor. 

“No way,” he yelled back. “You did!” Now both sitting on the floor, you continually reloaded your darts, shooting at each other until you were crumbling on the floor in fits of laughter that would give you the strongest abs in the world.

Pushing yourself up from the floor, you refilled your blaster and walked over to Spencer, taking his hand to help him up as well. “How about we both make dinner? I think we got hit at the same time.”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, heading toward the kitchen and placing his blaster on his seat at the dining room table. Ever the overgrown children, you continued to make a mess during dinner, throwing flour at each other while you were trying to bread chicken. Once everything was cooked and the table was set, one would think you’d both go get changed, but you decided against it, sitting at the table covered in flour and breadcrumbs while you ate. “Guess we’re both losers,” he laughed, taking his last bite of chicken.

You brushed the hair back from your face, smashing the flour into your hair even more. God, you both going to need serious showers after this. “Yea, we definitely both are.”

After he finished, Spence got up from the table and took the dishes, turning around to place them in the sink. You were still feeling a bit giddy, so you picked up the blaster from your side and shot one of the darts straight into the back of his head.

With his mouth scrunched up in mock disbelief, he went after his own and gave you a new challenge. “This time if you get hit first, we can shower by ourselves, but if I get shot first, we get our naked butts in the shower.”

You had never wanted to shoot him so badly. “Fire!”


End file.
